


and I can hear it in the words coming off your lips

by arachnistar



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Relationship, end of season 1/goes divergent start of season 2, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 16:52:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14549142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arachnistar/pseuds/arachnistar
Summary: “I meant what I said.”Jake is hurt while undercover and Amy has some realizations at the hospital.





	and I can hear it in the words coming off your lips

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t think this would crack 1k and yet here we are. Story of my life. This is also the first time I’ve written pre-relationship Peraltiago since my first fic (excluding all the WIPs in my drafts). It was a fun change of pace.
> 
> Title is from Love is a Wild Thing by Kacey Musgraves, which is a beautiful song that you should all listen to.

 

Five hours pass before they hear anything.

In that time, Amy manages to destroy her nails, sneak out for a smoke (she wants to go for another but the thought of not being in the waiting room when news arrives stills her), take the most stomach-turning sips of coffee ever, and go over the last conversation they had in astounding detail about a dozen or so times ( _what if it’s their last one?_ – and she has to stop herself there or she’ll burst into tears in the middle of the waiting room).

The others aren’t much better; Charles cycles between weeping and babbling about how he’ll be okay because he’s the best detective, Rosa paces quietly and Amy _knows_ the dented paper towel dispenser in the women’s bathroom is her fault, Gina sits there with a vacant look in her eyes and her unused phone clutched tight like a lifeline, and Terry switches spots constantly as he tries to take care of all of them at once.

Captain Holt isn’t there for the beginning, he has paperwork to handle with the FBI, but he arrives around the start of hour three and takes up a position in the corner. There’s no hint as to what’s going on inside of him and Amy doesn’t strain herself to hear the hushed conversation Terry has with him.

For once, it doesn’t matter to her what he’s thinking.

Five hours pass before a nurse walks in and says, “Who’s here for Jake Peralta?” and they all jolt to attention. The nurse’s eyes widen, she wasn’t expecting so many people to suddenly converge on her, but she takes it in stride. “We’ve finished the surgery and gotten him situated in a room.”  

“He’s going to be okay?” Rosa demands.

“It’s very likely that he’ll make a full recovery, yes.”

Amy’s eyes sting and she almost starts crying right there from the weight that’s vanished off her shoulders. He’s going to be okay. He’s alive, he’s healing, he’s going to be okay. A full recovery.  

“We’ll let you in to see him two at a time.”

Amy hangs back, it’s maybe the hardest thing she’s ever done, not rushing straight to Jake’s room, but she can’t bring herself to move. Not yet.  

Charles and Gina go first. Rosa goes next and while Captain Holt turns to Amy expectedly, she shakes her head and gestures for him to go ahead. His brow lifts and she studiously avoids his curious gaze and he goes on ahead without complaint. Once they’ve returned, the nurse nods at Terry and Amy.

Amy follows, heart thudding away in her chest, palms sweating, the world narrowing to the nurse’s back as she leads them to Jake’s room as if nothing else matters. The nurse opens a door and Amy steps in and there he is.  

Jake looks small. It’s not usually an adjective Amy applies to him, but it’s the first thing she notices now and it makes her want to take up a sword and protect him with her life. He’s got wires and tubes attached to his arm, leading to a bag of saline solution and a monitor displaying his vitals. His skin is pale, save for the dark shadows under his eyes, and he’s terrifyingly still.  

Amy stands by his bed, Terry’s large frame by her side, and drinks him in. She hasn’t seen him since the night he left when he confessed his feelings and left her confused and worried and aching in ways she couldn’t express. The next six months had been stressful; the FBI had been reluctant to share much information with the precinct except to say he was alive and even those notices had been far and few between, made only to Captain Holt who reported it to the rest of their circle. There’d been a noticeable gap in the precinct too, an absence where there should have been jokes and brilliant deductions, a space that none of them could ever fill.

But it’s over. It’s over and he’s here, breathing, heart pumping, and she can’t get enough of staring at him.  

Terry leaves before her, hugs her good-bye, casts one final glance at Jake and then a longer one at her when she says she’s going to stay a while longer. There’s something weighted in the look, a question, but she looks away before he can ask anything.

Once they’re alone, Amy finally lets go of her tears, body shaking with the force of them. It’s over, he’s alive, he’s going to be okay runs on repeat in her head.

\--

Teddy arrives not long after the tears run their course. His arm wraps around her shoulders and she knows it’s supposed to be comforting but it just makes her feel cold.

It doesn’t help that she was supposed to have a date with him tonight and that she had forgotten to let him know she couldn’t make it in the flurry of rushing to the hospital and the long wait. Teddy had called ten minutes after the expected start of their date. He’d been understanding as she mechanically explained the situation, a few wrong words away from crumbling inwards at the time, and he’d promised to stop by later. And so here he is. 

“How’s he doing?”

It takes her a moment to speak, her tongue heavy in her mouth. “They said he’ll recover.”

“That’s great.”

She nods. They stand in silence for many minutes, Amy’s attention on the steady movement of Jake’s chest and the beeping of his heart monitor. It’s her favorite sound in the world right now, a reminder that he’s alive. He’s _alive_.  

Eventually Teddy presses his arm to try and turn her and says, “Come on. It’s getting late. I’ll take you home.”

Amy resists the pressure of his arm against her and shakes her head. “I can’t.”

“Amy, he’s going to be fine.” There’s just the slightest edge of irritation in his voice and if she wasn’t so exhausted, she would feel irritated right back. As it is, she just feels more tired.

“I know. I don’t want him to wake up alone.”

“That’s not your responsibility.”

“He’s my partner.” Amy disagrees.

She can feel Teddy’s gaze on her and she knows he’s unhappy but she can’t bring herself to leave. For Jake’s sake. And for her own. She almost lost him tonight and she needs that proximity to him to remember that he’s still here. That the last time she hears him speak won’t be him confessing his feelings to her. That he’ll wake up and make jokes and smile again.

“You don’t have to do this.” Amy stays quiet because how can she possibly explain to Teddy that she does when she can’t quite explain it to herself either. After a beat, he adds, “You don’t owe him this.”

And she knows he’s talking about Jake’s confession and a part of her wishes she had never told him about it, so he couldn’t turn the words back now but it’s been done.

“It’s not about that.”

“Then what is it?”

Fury bubbles in her veins at the disbelief in his voice and she shrugs off the arm around her, taking a step away from Teddy to face him fully. Her voice cuts through the air, bristling.

“I told you. He’s my partner and my friend! He’s been alone undercover in the mafia for months with no one to support him or watch his back. I am not going to let him wake up alone in a hospital bed after nearly dying.”

The room goes quiet, Amy’s eyes locked on Teddy’s, her patented Santiago glare in full effect. Finally, he sighs, his shoulders dropping. “I’m not going to convince you, am I?”  

“No. I’m sorry.” She isn’t. Not really.

He huffs out a breath. She knows he doesn’t believe her.

“Sure.” A pause, she can see that he wants to say something, there’s a part of her that _wants_ him to say it, damn the consequences, but then he shakes his head. “I’ll see you later, Amy.”

And then he leaves, just like that, and her heart doesn’t hurt quite as much as it should after a fight with her boyfriend.

\--

A while later, the nurse walks back in. “Visiting hours are ending, dear.”

Amy’s stomach clenches, her body goes cold, and she has to push herself to be polite. “Can I stay?”

“It’s not standard protocol to let non-family members stay the night.” 

“Please. He’s been alone for months. I don’t want him to have to wake up alone now.”

The nurse opens her mouth, closes it, tilts her head as she peers at Amy. She must see something in Amy’s face because her expression softens then. “Okay. You can stay. Let me get you a blanket.” 

The iron grip on her stomach releases. She breathes out and bows her head. “Thank you.”

\--

It’s an hour past midnight when Jake makes a small whining sound. Amy jumps in her seat but he doesn’t wake up, just keeps snuffling and shifting restlessly.

“Shh, it’s okay, Jake, you’re safe.” She reaches out and takes his hand. It’s cold, far colder than she expected, and she spends a few minutes massaging his skin, willing it to warm up. “You’re safe. You’re alive and safe, and you’re going to be okay.”

Jake stops moving and she pauses, waiting for him to wake up and ask her why she’s holding his hand. Or tease her about it. She doesn’t know what he’ll be like when he wakes up, how much the months undercover have changed him, whether he still likes her.

Not that the last thing matters, of course. It’d be better if he didn’t.

The nurse arrives ten minutes later, greets Amy, checks over Jake’s vitals, and gives him another injection. Amy watches and doesn’t let go of his hand the entire time.  

\--

Amy is slouched over in her seat, drowsing with the blanket tossed over her, when she feels a tug on her hand. Her eyes shoot open and there’s Jake squinting at her. Every muscle in her body seems to give out at once as the tension drains out of her. He’s okay, he’s really okay. Her hand squeezes his, an automatic response to her joy and relief.

“Jake!”

He blinks several times and then he just stares, a little dazed, a little awed at her.

“Ames?” His voice cracks. He swallows and tries again, voice gravelly and rough. “What are you – how – where am I?”    

“You’re in the hospital.” Amy watches as his body relaxes while he takes in his surroundings. She hands him a glass of water and after he’s taken several long sips, she asks, “Do you remember what happened?”

Pain crosses his face and she brushes her thumb across his knuckles. His eyes flicker down to where their hands are joined and she almost pulls away except that his grip tightens like he’s floating on the ocean and holding on to the last piece of driftwood available. She can’t deprive him of that.

“Yeah.” His voice is so incredibly small and sad and tentative; it makes her heart ache and her arms itch to hug him. “I screwed up.”

Amy is quick to respond. “You didn’t screw up.”

“My cover’s blown.”  

She squeezes his hand again, until he’s looking at her and not down at the sheets. “The FBI came in after they attacked you. They got them.”

“They’re all in prison?”

“Not everyone,” He frowns, she can see the guilt forming on his face, knows him well enough to predict the kinds of thoughts running through his head, and so she adds, “But it was the biggest mafia arrest in years. Maybe even decades. And we’re still searching for the remaining members, so who knows how many more we’ll get.” She smiles at him, squeezes his hand again. “You did it, Jake.”

He smiles back and everything feels almost normal, or like it could approach normal one day. And then his eyes slide away from hers to stare at the far wall, the smile dropping off his face, brow furrowing.  

Amy wants to ask him what he saw and did while he was undercover, to bridge that space between them and help him. She doesn’t though, there’s time for that later when they’re less exhausted, and instead reminds herself that whatever he’s experienced, he’s alive. Everything else can come later.      

“I meant what I said.” 

“What?” Amy blinks, quickly averting her gaze in case he noticed her staring. She glances back and he’s watching her with an open face.

“What I said before I left… about liking you.” The air whooshes out of her like she’s been punched in the gut and her entire body goes tense. Jake doesn’t seem to notice. “It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing. It was real.”

“Oh.” She’s quiet and he’s quiet and she should say something because he’s watching her with those soft, brown eyes. She swallows. “I’m still with Teddy.”

Probably. She isn’t entirely certain after tonight but they haven’t had that conversation yet and she doesn’t want to talk about it with Jake. 

His eyes widen a fraction and he shakes his head, “I wasn’t trying to - I just needed you to know. That’s all.”

She nods. A beat, and then because his confession’s been sitting in her heart for the past six months with no real outlet (except for Teddy and he didn’t count, that conversation had only knocked their relationship off-kilter for weeks and she’d never brought it up again), because her own words have been rattling around inside her chest for months, she says, “You left before I could say anything.”

“I know. I was scared. I knew nothing could happen because you’re with Teddy, so,” Jake frowns a little, lifts his shoulders halfheartedly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Amy bites her lip to keep from saying more, from telling him that it almost wasn’t. If he had died and it had been their last conversation… but it’s okay now.

He’s alive. Alive and in front of her with his normally fluffy hair flattened to his head and his shoulders tight with a new tension. His eyes are focused on the sheets and he hasn’t let go of her hand yet and she can’t get over how close she came to losing him and how very much _alive_ he is.

Amy’s slammed with the urge to kiss him then, leaving her breathless and frightened by how strong it is. She isn’t going to, of course. She’s with Teddy and she’s happy, she thinks, he’s a good boyfriend, safe and stable and interested in the same things she is, it doesn’t matter that he’s not exciting, and anyway she would never do that to another person. But the knowledge of her want still sweeps through her until it’s screaming in all her senses.

But nothing’s changed. Jake likes her and she’s dating Teddy and nothing’s changed. 

(Except, of course, everything. Except that Jake went away for six months and her life felt a little emptier during that time and then he almost died and her heart is still aching from the near loss. Except that maybe she likes him back - and that’s a terrifying thought to consider, an uncharted territory of complications, she’d have to break up with Teddy and there’s no guarantee that she and Jake would even work out together or that their friendship would survive a failed relationship and, well, it’s a lot to think about.)

Really, she should go. Partners, working partners, even when they’re friends, don’t generally wait up at each other’s bedsides especially once it’s been proven that they’ll recover. And he’s awake now, so she’s done her part in making sure he didn’t wake up alone. There’s no reason to stay.

No reason to stay beyond the small fact that she’s missed him. That she doesn’t want to leave him alone with those haunted eyes and whatever memories his time undercover have left him with. That she doesn’t want to leave and then never see him again because there’s a complication in his recovery or one remaining gangster storms the hospital for revenge.

(She understands the irrationality of that last thought and yet she can’t shake its shadow.) 

“I missed you.” She blurts out and then she wants to run away and hide somewhere until she figures out these feelings but he’s still holding her hand and now he’s looking at her with these too-wide eyes and she has to stay.

“Never expected to see the day when you’d admit that, Santiago.” Even with the small strain in his voice, like he’s scrambling to get back to their normal ease, she can’t help but roll his eyes at his joke. She pokes him lightly and he beams at her, it’s a little startling how bright his smile is, she’d forgotten about that and a part of her never wants to look away from it, and then his face shifts.

“I missed you too, Amy.”

Her heart lurches in her chest and her throat closes up and she really should stop being surprised by his sincerity or its effect on her. She holds his gaze for several seconds and then smiles. “You missed out on some wild stuff. I arrested a guy named Joe Uterus.”

“Tell me about it.”

Amy ends up staying for another three hours, telling him about everything that’s happened at the precinct in his absence. He watches her intently the entire time, occasionally sliding in a comment or two, a question here and there, but otherwise, he seems to enjoy simply listening to her. The realization makes her flush and tuck her hair back and hope he doesn’t realize what’s going through her head. Eventually though his eyes start to slide shut and she stands. “I should get going. It’s late.”

“I think it’s early actually.” Jake mumbles.    

And, sure enough, when she checks her watch, it’s seven in the morning. She stares at the numbers for a moment, disbelieving. She has work in an hour. She has to get home and shower and change into a new set of clothes and pick up coffee. How could she lose track of time so easily?

His eyes open and he gives her a mischievous grin. “Did I just guess the time more accurately than you?” 

“Shut up.”

He laughs, body shaking, and she laughs along with him. And this, it feels like something clicking into place, something that’s been missing for the past several months but that she’s finally found again.

The moment doesn’t last long, Jake’s laughter turns into a cry of pain, wheezing breaths and trembling. She places a hand on his shoulder, fluttery and uncertain of how to help except to murmur small comforts, and after a moment, he recovers and smiles at her.  

“Thank you for staying with me.”

“You’re my partner.” She says, quick, like she’s been telling everyone.

He nods. “You’re the best partner in the world, you know that?”

All of a sudden, Amy’s body feels far too warm and her hands have gone clammy and she has to take a moment to compose her words. “Remember that next time I ask you to organize your casefiles.”

“Not a chance, Santiago.” He beams, belying his words, and her heart quakes and she is so utterly doomed. “See you later, Amy.”

“Bye, Jake.”

Amy leaves, winding her way through white hallways and medical personnel out into the bright sunshine of the early morning, mind heavy with what she might do if she’s brave enough and what she should do regardless of that.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to chat with me about b99 or jake/amy or anything else, you can find me on [Tumblr](http://proofthatihaveaheart.tumblr.com/).


End file.
